Code Geass: Peggy Sue Standard
by StandardPoster
Summary: I must've scanned through upwards of a fifty Code Geass fanfics in the past couple of days, and have yet to come across a multi-chapter fic that can even charitably be described as semi-complete. It's high time someone breaks this trend- and since I fancy myself a writer of sorts and an incorrigible optimist- I'm going to try being the one who does it. Refer inside for details.
1. Iteration 01: A Demon is reborn

_I must've scanned through upwards of fifty Code Geass fanfics in the past couple of days, and have yet to come across a multi-chapter fic that can even charitably be described as semi-complete. It's high time someone breaks this trend- and since I fancy myself a writer of sorts and an incorrigible optimist- I'm going to try being the one who does it._

 _Here's how it's going to play out; I'm planning a total of twenty-five chapters- each of roughly five thousand words- which will bring my planned fanfic to a total of One hundred twenty-five thousand words, a daunting prospect in any situation. Thankfully, I will be making my job a lot easier by the following expedients._

 _1- Apologies in advance, but I'm really afraid that you won't be seeing much "cleverness" in this Fic. I'm a really prosaic boring person, not really disposed to any creative imaginings or even exertions. You'll get a solid rounded fic- assuming I'm even able to finish this, but don't expect Lelouch 2.0 to be coming up with any of the Machiavellian plans you might have seen in the Anime or some of the other fics on this Portal. You'll get a bit of low cunning, bolstered by his foreknowledge, as well as bits of Strategy ripped off from history books and documentaries. But nothing really flashy._

 _2- English isn't my first language and, to be honest, I haven't really used it over the last two months or so. There won't be many spelling mistakes- partly thanks to Auto-correct- but the grammar and sentence structure might not be up to scratch at several points. Again- my apologies in advance._

 _3- I binged through Akito the Exiled last week- otherwise I freely admit I'd forgotten most of the original story and I've absolutely no idea what to make of stuff like Oz of the Retribution or Nunally of the Nightmare. So, I'll be just referring to the Wiki as much as I can, and maybe look up the relevant scenes on YouTube. If I mess up somewhere… I honestly can't help it._

 _You'll get a bare-bones Code Geass Peggy Sue fic, possibly the worst on this Forum, but you'll get a complete one. No more. No less. Maybe. I hope. No promises. But as the saying does, the deed is in the doing- and we'll see if I do manage to knock off this thing by December._

 _If anyone has inputs or suggestions or ideas they'd like to bounce off me, not just to make sure Lelouch 2.0 is the absolute unit that he was in canon but also to make sure this Fic actually comes out half-way decent instead of rail-roading into a Gary Stu ruin, fire away in the comments. Tips, messages, praise, anything. I'll shamelessly steal your ideas. I'm desperate; Writer's-block is my second name. See the Title._

 _Now I'm wishing I'd just written a parody instead; would've probably been easier. Meh._

 _I own nothing._

* * *

It was a bright clear day in the month of September of the year 2018 ATB, and Lelouch vi Britannia- 99th Emperor of the Holy Britannian Empire, President of the United Federation of Nations, Defender of the Commonwealth, Light of Civilization, Conqueror of the World, Lord of Mankind, Stupor Mundi- was dying.

Suzaka had done his part perfectly, as expected of the Knight of Zero. Truly there was nothing the two of them couldn't accomplish if they cooperated. Dimly, through dying nerves, he felt the massive G1 begin to reverse… Ah, Orange boy… What a magnificent Knight! Hopefully they'll swallow the story; with the millions of troops who would be coming out of his thralldom in a few hours, Li Xingke and Cornelia would prefer to give everyone blanket pardons rather than launch fresh inquisitions.

Everything had been as per plan, after all.

Something, someone grasped his hand… Nunally, probably… His friends at Ashford would've told him if she were there, but they weren't… No, it was Nunally… It had to be Nunally… Who else… Would she ever learn what he had done what he had done, why he had done what he done?

He longer felt his hands… He tried to speak but he had no tongue, all his ears heard were a dull roar without beginning or end, and all his eyes saw was darkness wrapped in darkness.

But such concerns were frivolous. He had destroyed the World, and created it anew.

The match was over- and he had won. What else remained but to return the triumphant King to the box?

Even as he fell into the raging saffron non-existence that he knew, without either conscious thought or comprehension, was the World of C, he knew that mere moments remained before his independent will was crushed and dissipated away amongst the soft whispers of all those who had been and who had never been and who would be. Slowly he sank in the depths of its unending grandeur, for ages he fell; each age an eternity long and each eternity a lifetime of the Sun. He was a dream now, a wish carried away by the susurrus of a whisper, and Lelouch felt himself fading.

It was a terrible feeling- knowing that one's conscious existence was soon to be over, to be submerged into the vast macrocosm of God, to simply vanish, to vanish and to forget… An unwritten epilogue to the story of Lelouch vi Britannia… to all that he had accomplished, to everything that he had sacrificed, the friends he had loved, to promises he had not kept, to words he had never said. Dying had been so much easier. Lelouch faded, the World faded, everything faded… save the briefest red spark of regret that, for a briefest second, flared within the fading memories of a fading soul…

The Geass Sigil burned into the World of C for the second time in an eternity.

And the World screamed.

The dream tore apart then, into shreds of red and orange and saffron and yellow and mauve and white and pure burning light. Storm clouds rumbled and clashed with swords of lightning and St Elmo's fire. Winds tore around him, living thought tore around him, the souls of millions of years of Humanity tore around him- and he himself, an ungraspable phantom of life, twisting and turning in that tormented flow of Space and Time. All that once, almost impossibly, it grew even brighter and brighter; the light washed over him, washed over everything… and then passed away.

* * *

"Lelouch," Empress Marianne asked, "What happened? You are not feeling ill, are you?"

The air in the Aries villa gardens was warm and balmy, and they all sat under the picnic tree- a statuesque weeping willow that hung its ancient branches over the east end of the Villa lake. The Empress was on a rare break from her duties in the Ashford Testing Facilities and the family had taken the opportunity to relax under the dying light of a summer evening. They'd had a tea party first, and a jelly and pudding party, and Lelouch had staged a play starring Mr. Jean Grand the stuffed giraffe and the Queen of Hippos, and the Empress had regaled her children with a tale of the first Knightmare Race she'd ever seen as a child herself- between Lord General 'Bull Moose' Roosevelt and Lord Rugan. Nunally had just fallen asleep, and a smiling Lelouch had been listening happily to her tale- when suddenly his eyes had grown hard and cruel and so… _old_.

The ten-year-old boy shook his head. "I'm all right, Mother," he said as he ruffled his sleeping sister's hair. "It was just… Mother, do you love us?" he asked abruptly.

Empress Marianne looked puzzled and slightly disturbed for the briefest of moments, before she embraced her son fiercely. "Oh, Lelouch!" she sighed.

The Emperor watched as his sister woke up from the commotion, and was taken into the embrace as well. He watched as his family embraced in the golden languid sad light of the eve, as if that embrace could halt grief, halt time, halt what was to come. A bell was ringing in the distance and the nearby bushes hustled with the dance of humble woodland creatures. He watched as the gold and blue evening deepened, and turned into a diamond-lit black, and the hushed trees around Marianne, Lelouch, and Nunally turned black, throwing darkling shadows onto the silent mellow flower-clad slope leading down to the still waters of the brimming twilit lake. He watched with burning red-and-purple eyes as the night deepened and deepened until a passing visitor could've made nothing around him- save the two embers of red that marked where stood Emperor Lelouch vi Britannia.

He turned his face and began to walk away.

He turned his face away from where a weeping mother embraced her stony-faced son and puzzled daughter.

He turned, and walked away.

* * *

Charles zi Britannia stood in front of a richly appointed bookcase packed with the texts and mementoes of a hundred nations and a thousand peoples, his back to Lelouch vi Britannia. The smell of old paper and treated leather was in Lelouch's nostrils as he made his way to where his father stood, near a glass case preserving a 16th Century Tanegashima musket and what looked like one of Clovis' paintings of Mojave sunsets. The skeletons of wondrous creatures smirked down at him as Lelouch passed beneath their cases, and the eyes of a line of Euro-Britannian dolls followed the Stupor Mundi as he made his way down the bookcase-lined corridor. From the way his feet sank into the gold-drenched carpet underneath, Lelouch hadn't expected Charles to hear his approach- but as the very thought crossed his mind, his father turned.

"Lelouch," the 98th Holy Britannian Emperor stated as he looked down upon his son- without condonation, without condemnation, without emotion.

He had changed since Lelouch had seen him under the shadow of the sword of Akasha. Emperor Charles zi Britannia was once again in the prime of his life- his hair Nunally's light brown instead of white, his then-wasting frame had filled out, his face lacked the usual wrinkles and lines; he even appeared to have grown slightly taller.

Lelouch almost jumped back- in fear as much as in surprise- but almost as quickly as the impulse had come, it passed and Lelouch nodded in quiet acknowledgment, "Father".

Charles nodded and turned his attention back to the tome in his hands. For a few minutes, he flipped through the pages in silence as Lelouch stood next to him, tapping his feet & sighing in impatience- then abruptly, he snapped the text shut and returned the book to its rightful position.

"When we last parted, I could have scarcely imagined that we shall be seeing each other so soon," mused Charles as he took out and browsed through yet another book from the shelves. "Three Emperors in three months? The last time such a state of affairs had come to past, Britannia had collapsed into Civil War within the year. And that was with my Imperial Grandsire on the Throne."

Lelouch suppressed a surge of irritation. Stepping forward he plucked the book out of Charles' hand. "The Emblem of Blood arose from the shock of Britannia's defeat in the Great War as well as your beloved Grandsire's refusal to temper the ambitions of his Court. You know this as well as I do. The Wars are over now. So is your degenerate Court." The book was the usual sort one could find in any Britannian nobleman's library- thick leather-bound volumes with heavy pages of gold-trimmed paper, meant more for decoration in lavishly appointed living rooms than for actual study. This copy, however, clearly had seen use; as Lelouch flipped through the dog-eared pages, he spotted no few notes in what was clearly his father's hand. There were even doodles at points, including one of a young V.V. The script of the text, however, was nothing like Lelouch had ever seen during the course of his… past life. It didn't resemble any Latin system Lelouch was aware of, nor did it bear any resemblance to either Kanji or Hangul or any Slavic…

"It is a variant of what you might know as the Phoenician Script," explained Charles patiently. "Some of the more traditional Jewish priests still use something similar. So, do several of the European OSI agents… however this tome in particular is special, a legacy of the Zidonians. It is the only surviving remnant of that people, a collection of hymns to the goddess Astarte, worshipped by Greeks and Armenians and Persians even as they warred amongst each..."

"The Phoenician Script?"

"A Canaanite people from the Bronze Age. They were some of the first to experience the power of Geass."

Lelouch cut in brusquely, " _But_ _Solomon worshipped Astarte the goddess of the Zidonians,"_ he quoted. "I am aware of those legends, I read them.. _."_

"After you learnt that Shirley came from a family of theists," Charles went on like an automaton. "A different deity to those of the Zidonians, of course. But for whatever conflicts they might've been part of, I am sure there were innocents among the Zidonians, innocents as deserving of happiness as Shirley herself."

"Enough!" spat Lelouch curtly as he replaced the book into its rightful place. He went on after Charles raised an almost amused eyebrow, "Innocents suffer in War. It is known, it has always been known. Why are you- whatever you are- telling me all this? If this is some sick idea of punishment, count me as unimpressed!" Lelouch clenched his fists once, twice, and then relaxed. "I did what I had to do. I did the best I could do," his voice quiet at first but gradually turning into one of pride, his bearing straight and his eyes boring into those of whatever creature wore his father's form. "I defeated you, father! What feeble imp of Roman legend or meaningless figment of my shattering mind can change that?"

"Precisely so!" laughed Zero, resplendent in his purple suit and shining helmet, as he took his place by Lelouch's side. "Emperor, you are no more than a ghost of what never was! The Collective Consciousness itself rejected you! Begone!"

"Such arrogance from a mere terrorist?" drawled a cold cruel voice from behind Charles. Archduke Julius Kingsley stepped into their midst, a vicious smile on his arrogant features and the Imperial Specter almost casually tucked into the sash of his expensive robes. "Emperor!" he addressed Charles as he bowed, "Your mercy is as limitless as your justice, but as you can see these two masked fools have long out-stepped their bounds. Give me the Word, my Master, and I will have them begging for the relief of death within the hour!"

"Fine words from one who didn't even choose his own mask," smirked Lelouch Lamperouge as he lifted his head from where he had been setting the scattered papers into order, as Lord Kingsley's look turned murderous. "What use is a King with no one to lead, a King who shatters to pieces if one were to touch the Board?"

Charles began to laugh, a quiet cold laugh that reminded Lelouch of his own "To think you, who struggled for so long for peace within your own self, would one day dream of bringing peace to the World!"

"If there's nothing else, I will take your leave, whatever you are!" said Lelouch imperiously. "I can only suppose you're some sort of strange penitence dreamt up by the Collective Consciousness for my sins. As for you all," he told his own gathered faces, "I long gave up my own masks. I see no need for you here."

Archduke Julius sneered. "You rejected your own desires and you rejected your own Power. What right do you have to command us?"

"So is Power the end of all, Lord Kingsley?" demanded Zero in anger.

"I've heard enough about Power and Masks," muttered Lelouch Lamperouge, "And it's time you remove yours!" And he reached up to Lelouch's face and ripped it off.

"Hail Emperor Lelouch vi Britannia!" greeted Lord Kingsley as he bowed, this time to the white-clad Conqueror of the Earth, "Stupor Mundi! Slayer of Emperor Charles! Slaughterer of Billions! If only I was with you then, My Lord, the Black Knights…"

"I said 'Enough'!" snarled Lelouch vi Britannia as he glared at Charles and Zero and Lord Kingsley and Lelouch Lamperouge- and a stunned Lelouch. "I ordered you all to be gone!"

"Your weakness disgusts me!" replied Lord Kingsley, his slavish demeanor gone in a second "Again and again, you waste your potential, you turn back from the real path when confronted by these callow…"

"You own Power brought you only grief, Lord Kingsley," Zero's voice was cold.

Lelouch Lamperouge snarled in turn, "Your Power, Zero, took Nunally away from me!"

"You fragments dare question me!"

"We could've established a realm to last a thousand years!"

"Euphemia was only trying to…"

"You allowed Schniezel to take Nunally away from us!"

"FLIEJA would've never existed if not for…"

"Shirley bled to death in my arms, you monsters!"

"And who geassed Suzaku in the first place?"

"It was I who did all that."

The four figures turned to look upon Lelouch- and he looked back at them. Lelouch Lamperouge looked conflicted, Julius Kingsley was sneering, Lelouch vi Britannia was simply livid, and Zero was… Zero. Lelouch looked back, and saw that Charles was no longer there. "A fragment of my own mind then," he nodded as he faced his masks again, "As are all of you… As am I myself."

Lelouch inhaled deeply of what was maybe air- or wasn't. "All I wished for once had been Power; then it was Revenge, then it was Security, then it was Justice. If I'd just hoped instead for cheer and wonder and the company of my friends instead, none of this would've ever happened. "

Julius Kingsley yawned and both Lelouch Lamperouge and Lelouch vi Britannia looked disturbed, but Zero disagreed, "That is mere selfishness. The ideal…"

"I know it is pure selfishness," admitted Lelouch, "If I had just sought power or justice or revenge or security, it possibly would have been enough. But as you said, Zero, I wanted it all. I dreamt too big, I hoped for too much, I reached too high, I…" Lelouch took another deep breath. "I wasn't wrong. All I really wanted or even needed were a few specks of happiness, but what about everyone else? I was… merely mistaken about certain important things, and you… all of you, paid for it. I am sorry."

As Lelouch Lamperouge appeared to take a step ahead, Lelouch vi Britannia laid a hand upon the former's shoulder. For a few seconds they glared at each other, but then the emperor relented and let go. Lelouch Lamperouge stepped forth and asked, "Was it really so bad to be selfish to want to see Nunally smiling?"

"No, it wasn't just that either" Lelouch lowered his head onto his palms. "I just… I just wanted to see the World Nunally dreamed of, even if I didn't believe in it myself."

"Was it worth it?" For the first time, Julius Kingsley's mien was neither self-assured nor vicious.

"Who knows?" Lelouch pondered.

"We did, though," declared Lelouch vi Britannia, "Rank, Race, Revenge, even our very names- what did they even matter in the end? We were prepared to die from the very start. We knew, from that day in Shinjuku, that the game was set- and could only end in death or victory."

Julius said scornfully, "It ended in death, no matter how much you protest."

"Only those who are prepared to kill, can be allowed to kill," Zero repeated the old refrain Lelouch had heard himself say so many times.

Lelouch vi Britannia nodded, "The Zero Requiem was the daydream of a foolish broken man. But it was our final swansong; We took on all corners of the World in arms. The World declared war on us. Not the Britannian Empire with its limitless armies. Upon one man. Us. And we won."

"Some victory."

"A victory, nonetheless," Lelouch countered the doubting student. "You are right that I lost Nunally- forever… but the fact is… I had lost her long ago, from my own sins. I had lost them all, right or wrong, I had lost them all… Be it Shirley or Euphie or Rolo or Karen or Milly or Rivalz or Nina. And you are right, Lord Kingsley, that I was weak. But again, I had always been weak- just a scared ten-year-old boy hoping against hope to be… happy."

"And that is why I was manifest!" declared Zero, "The Man of Miracles, someone who can give the World the hope no mere Prince or General or Student could!"

The Emperor was pensive- but not cruel- as he mused, "We dreamt too big, we hoped for too much, we reached too high, we split ourselves into knots trying to make out what we were, who we were, we hesitated and over-thought and lost track of what we really wanted or wanted to do or even deserved to."

"We built the World anew, the way it ought to have been. One where a ten-year-old boy would've never have to lose his family and friends the way we did," laughed Lord Kingsley. "We lied to the last, we betrayed and schemed and enslaved them all- and we saved them all, against their own will."

"We did give Ashford Academy and Nunally a peaceful World, I admit," said Lelouch Lamperouge softly.

"Any fool could boast of fear and vengeance and control- but we gave the World justice. We gave the World Peace!" Zero stretched out his arms. "Rejoice!"

Lelouch looked into every face around him. Lord Kingsley looked troubled, his expression oddly sorrowful as his left hand reached up to caress the eyepatch that covered half his face. Lelouch Lamperouge was similarly despondent, pointedly avoided meeting Lelouch's eyes and staring up at the frozen eye of the World of C that now hung above them. They now stood in the middle of a vast circle of ruins, long-weathered lichen-encrusted stone pillars once covered with eldritch motifs of long-dead civilizations jutting out of the ground in circles around them as far as the eye could see. Lelouch vi Britannia, his bejeweled robes still stained with their blood, spoke up haltingly, "It was fun being Emperor though…"

Lelouch Lamperouge snorted. "Yeah, as if we didn't know how that turned out!"

"We couldn't have ever been sure about the end, can we?" smiled Lelouch vi Britannia wistfully. "Not without seeing it to the last by ourselves."

Lelouch shook his head. "No. We did. We accepted what was to be done. And we did." And they all glanced at Zero.

Then all was silence- and Lelouch looked up to see himself standing alone under the great whirling eye of the World of C. His masks were gone, the ruins around him were gone, and for a moment- or was it an eternity? - for a moment, just a moment, he stood there alone in silence, the only breathing soul in a shimmering-yellow light born off the desire of human souls, and all that lay behind him passed from view…

"This man called Lelouch paid for his sins with his death. He destroyed the World. He built it anew. He did it not for himself, but for his sister, his family, his friends, the World itself. Lelouch vi Britannia who had rushed into the Throne room so tempestuously all those years ago, wouldn't have done the same. Lelouch Lamperouge who did nothing but hid and bemoan his fate for a decade, wouldn't have done the same. Julius Kingsley who buried his own fear and loneliness in tyranny and sadism, wouldn't have done the same. Zero who betrayed friend and foe alike, would've never done it," intoned the being who was and was not Charles zi Britannia. "But Lelouch did. You did."

The being bowed its head to a shocked Lelouch.

"Congratulations".

"Congratulations!" declared Zero, the Man of miracles, as he stood at the head of the Black Knights. "Congralutions," smiled Lelouch Lamperouge, hand in hand with a blushing Shirley. "Congratulations! Congralutions!" laughed Euphemia as she jumped up and down like a child, uncaring of what anyone would think. "Congratulations, brother!" muttered Rolo, as he grasped Lelouch's hand. "Congratulations," nodded a frazzled-looking Clovis in an artist's overalls, as a worried-looking General Bartley mouthed apologies and his own congratulations. "Congratulations," bit out Archduke Julius Kingsley as he glared at the smiling Euro-Britannians assembled there. "Congratulations, Prince Lelouch," General Darlton clapped. "Congratulations, Your Highness," intoned Sir Bismarck Waldenstein with a look of pride on his face. "Congratulations," from Dame Monica. "Congratulations," growled Sir Luciano. "Congratulations," bowed Lady Dorothea. "Congratulations" Lord Kewell scratched his head. "Congratulations," sighed V.V., looking as if he wished he were in the deepest Hell instead. "Congratulations!" "Congratulations, congratulations." "Congratulations" The words echoed around Lelouch, the tenderness and gratitude and acceptance so overwhelming that tears fell unbidden from his eyes as he watched everyone- friends and strangers, allies and enemies, Britannian and Japanese, everyone he had known and lost, smile and greet and cheer for him.

Lelouch spotted a pair of red eyes towards his left and turned to see himself looking on with an undecipherable expression on his face. Then the demonic glow receded, and vanished, and Lelouch vi Britannia shook his hand and grinned. "Congratulations. And well done."

"Everyone will forget this, won't they?" he said softly to his father. "Not that any of this is real. Is it?"

For the first time that Lelouch had ever seen in his life- Charles smiled, a genuine smile where the Grace of his Boyhood and Valour of his Youth and Wisdom of his Prime all came together in some inexplicable manner, so as to make him the best of all his parts before bitterness and anger and lies took both him and his brother. "Of course, none of this might be real, Lelouch," he shrugged. "But then… it might be. You said it yourself, that it was all just the question of a wish." Charles looked up, and Lelouch did the same to see the World of C slowly turning, turning- and how Lelouch knew this he could not explain- turning back, turning into the past… "What we did was just show you that there was never any need of such contrition in the first place."

Lelouch laughed. "That was uncharacteristically sentimental from those probably aren't even human."

Charles- or was it Marianne or Euphie or even Lelouch himself- shrugged in reply. "It was just a simple wish," explained Lelouch to himself. "Who can begrudge us that?"

* * *

An Area 11 posting was, by no means, the most suitable for one's health. The weather was often muggy, the Nobility were the scum of the Empire, terrorists practically ran the countryside- and whatever providence looked after young ambitious Knights under the command of mercurial Princely Artists and their sanctimonious obese baby-sitter generals clearly didn't consider the Far East a suitable haunt.

That day had been similarly disappointing. Terrorists had broken into one of Prince Clovis' research stations and stolen enough poison gas to wipe half of Honshu- unexpected considering the Administrative Council whored itself out to anyone with two Sovereigns to rub together- and yet again, the failure of the Police had meant it had fallen upon the Purists to restore order. And once that was done- the general staff of the Area 11 Tokyo garrison had neatly stepped in to take the credit. Lord Jeremiah hadn't been much concerned- and had taken to the new orders to liquidate the ghetto with his characteristic bloodlust against the Elevens.

"But then again, he's a Margrave already!", snorted Villetta as she rolled her Knightmare down a long alley flanked by ruined warehouses, checking the buildings for signs of terrorists. She was vaguely planning to make her away towards the railway to bivouac with Lord Jeremiah's unit when her Factosphere spotted movement in one of the warehouses.

"Unit SB-08, we require support," barked a voice on her communicator, the display showing a G1 Access Code. "I'm sending you the coordinates. Do not re-transmit this message. I repeat, do not transmit!"

To her surprise, the voice- Baron Starkey's- if she remembered correctly- came from the very warehouse she'd been thinking of checking. She rushed to obey; in a land like Area 11, the squabbling terrorists- as barbaric and vicious as they were- had nothing upon the scheming treacherous nobles- of whom Claude Starkey, Baron of Fukuoka and Buzen, was a prime example.

The warehouse was dark and grimy and ill-made, as expected of the ignorant Elevens- and no few corpses of the latter lay piled in a corner. At the end of the structure, stood a posse of the Royal Guard, gathered around a low bench where sat a young man- his features shadowed by the Guardsmen's cap he wore and a ceremonial Guard's coat around his shoulders. But that wasn't what was puzzling.

A bleeding girl in a prisoner's outfit was on the bench as well, her blood-stained head cradled in the young man's arms. Baron Starkey- in nothing but his shirt and trousers- was genuflecting in front of the young man as he answered what were clearly the latter's questions. "…Keegan with the 15.5 guns…" Villetta heard him say through her Frame's microphones. "…the Special Envoy at Base Coordinates S23…"

If the rest of the Royal Guard thought the scene incongruous, they showed no sign of it- their features relaxed and impassive as Villetta looked at them via her Factosphere camera feed. As she watched, three other Sutherlands- one Purist and two from Orion squad- turned up on her IFF, all rushing towards their position.

The young man held up his hand, just as the reinforcements broke through the walls and lined up alongside Villetta's frame. "What is going on, Dame Villetta," asked the Purist pilot, Dowling, as he popped out of his cockpit in his usual impetuousness, "Is this a secret mission?"

Before she could answer, Baron Starkey stood up and called out, "Knights of the Holy Britannian Empire, My Lord wishes you dismount from your Knightmares at once!"

All of them- save one- rushed to obey, save one of the Orions who rudely replied via his speakers, "I am supposed to get orders from the G1, not from one of Bartley's goons. Don't get carried away, Starkey, you can't just order me like this!"

"It is my order, Soldier," declared the young man imperiously as he gently laid down the girl's head and stood up. He was, Villetta noted now, very young, barely more than a teenager. His face was caked with soot, and the over-sized Guardsman cap he wore shadowed most of his face, but something about his entire carriage, his voice and the way he held himself, screamed that this was one who wasn't in the habit of having his commands disobeyed. His next words removed all of Villetta's doubts, "My name is Julius Kingsley, the Duke of New York and an Inspector in the OSI. You all have been drafted into my service as of this very minute. Dismount and obey."

"I want nothing to do with one of you freaks," snarled the dissenter. "Does Lord Orion know of you?"

"Failure to obey me within the next minute will have your entire family declared as unpersons," said the figure in a bored tone.

"What does that mean?"

"Fifty-two seconds."

There was no argument after that.

As the pilots gingerly- as was recommended for normal personnel while dealing with the psychopaths of the OSI- dismounted, Villetta could almost feel the terror rolling off in waves from her fellow Knights. While no one knew much about the OSI, it was not a secret that Inspectors were the highest-ranking executives among them- out-ranked only but their mysterious Director and the Emperor himself. And a Duke, as well- if this Kingsley wasn't lying… No wonder the Royal Guard was slavishly bowing to him.

As the four pilots fell in line, the young man stepped up- and the World turned red.

"My orders to you are… SERVE ARCHDUKE JULIUS KINGSLEY!"

* * *

Karen was pushing her Glasgow to its limits. Her machine had already lost an arm and the two chasing her were Purists- allegedly Japan's best pilots. The Britannians were everywhere, massacring her people. She desperately wished that they hadn't taken that gas capsule. So many died, were dying. If only they'd been more careful. If only Tamaki had deactivated the alarms. If only her machine's charge wasn't so low. If only Britannia hadn't existed, If only She'd listened when Naoto...

The two mechs on her trail were catching up. Karen realized that they were merely playing with her. With only thirty minutes of charge remaining in her Glasgow, the Yggdrasil drive was unable to perform at its best. A Sutherland could easily overtake her at the speed she was going.

Her transmitter crackled to life- "Go west… Karen Stadtfeld."

Karen felt her chest grow cold. "That is… How do you know that name…? Who is this _?"_ The voice was using her unit's contact frequency, but he didn't sound like anyone in their resistance group that she knew. And he knew! _He knew!_

"Does it matter? If you want to win, then trust me".

Karen didn't trust the voice, not in the least. But it wasn't as if she had much of a choice. She accelerated down the road, obeying the man's voice, jumped onto the tracks and then leapt onto the train.


	2. Iteration 02: The Lies of the Demon

"ENOUGH!" Clovis shouted. The day was going from bad to worse, helped along by the incompetency of everyone around him. Already a third of his Armoured Cavalry had been wiped out while there was still no sign of the Specimen. "Tighten the enclosure. Put up Quincy's group! And send Lerus in, too!"

Bartley stammered, "But our perimeter…"

Clovis ignored him. The infantry would do for defence. It had to do, "Enclose them! Concentrate your firepower!" He might have been no general, but he had read up on Cornelia's campaigns like any good younger brother would have.

"A communication from Orion squad, My Lord! They're calling for permissions to call Artillery strikes on entrenchments captured by terrorists!"

"Belay that!" ordered General Bartley, turning around in surprise, "I had ordered the Guns to be on stand-by!" Another of the captured bivouacs, Clovis guessed. Early on the battle, one of the operational Honorary Britannian bases had been taken over- no doubt helped along by the treacherous Elevens- and attempted an ambush upon an unsuspecting Purist. Dame Villetta had neutralized them without casualties- but then again Honorary Britannian APCs had but one sub-machine gun and no other weapons. Still, that'd meant two squads had to be diverted to neutralize the rebels.

One of the G1 Staff at the controls interrupted them with a frantic message. "Communication from Sir Dowling! Enemy Infantry have taken over the Weapons' Dump at H6!"

General Bartley turned to Prince Clovis, "My Prince, we must retreat and regroup. Squads must be sent to investigate the…."

Clovis ignored him. "Ignore the pinpricks! Focus on the head of the general!" Cornelia, what should I do?

"The Security of the Perimeter, my Prince!" Bartley insisted.

"Call for Artillery support from Squad Lazarus. Terrorist Glasgow, Point F7-3. Enemy Infantry, Point W3-5. Call for Artillery Support from Squad Orion. Enemy Infantry, Point W4-1. Captured APC, Point W5-7. Captured Medical Facility, Point…"

"That can't be true," called out one of the G1 staff. "This was secure a mere moment ago…"

"Orders, your Highness! We are dying here!" screamed a voice from one of the Base Communicators. What should I do, Cornelia! Schniezel!

"Communication from Lord Asplund, my liege! He protests the actions of the Royal Guard…"

"Glasgow spotted at Sector F8!"

Clovis gritted his teeth. Just how many Glasgows were there with the Terrorists? But all the reports… "Their main strength is at Sector F7!" He ordered. "Order artillery strikes on the isolated positions. Tell the infantry to break the stalemate in Sector W! Give Keegan the coordinates from Orion and the others! Centralize all units upon Sector F7! Ignore the infantry! Isolate the enemy Knightmares! Crush them! Right in the middle of our formation! Crush them!"

As the Knightmare squads rushed to fulfil their orders, Clovis felt strangely carefree. Yes, all was well. He would defeat the terrorists here and take back the Specimen. She was his only hope. After what happened with Luthor and Marrybel's travails...No, He will prove himself worthy. A line of immortal soldiers for Britannia! What else can be more useful? The Emperor will acknowledge him. And-And Schniezel too, Cornelia, Guinevere...It had been a stroke of luck finding those ruins at Kaminejima; He would have to properly research the island once he got some time to spare.

"My Lord," one of the G1 Staff broke into his reverie. "Lord Asplund is insistent upon an audience. He says…"

One of the G1 Staff shouted in a tone of pure panic, "What is Lord Keegan doing! The Guns are targeting…"

Then there came Hell upon Earth.

* * *

"Awesome!" Tamaki's excited voice sounded from the radio as Karen looked over the battered hulls of what had, till recently, been almost fifty Sutherlands of the Britannian military. The ghetto was ruined, maybe irreparably so but this...this was awesome; A victory on the scale of Itsukushima. Whoever that voice was, he was brilliant. The fighting wasn't completely over; for some reason there were still the distant thuds of Artillery strikes echoing across the ghetto, but for the Shinjuku Resistance though, there were no enemies standing within sight.

"Well spoken, Karen. That earthquake was a bit too much in my opinion, but this is amazing to say the least! We didn't even suffer a single loss!" exclaimed Ougi. Suddenly, a reverent tone came into his voice. "Hey, Karen, Ishida! You don't think this is Toudou himself, do you? Maybe that's how he learned our names and led us so effectively."

No, thought Karen. He knew your names. But he also knew mine. And the miraculous Toudou would've never called freedom fighters struggling against Britannia…

"Terrorists, this is Zero," came the stentorian tones of their unknown commander. "All conditions have been cleared. Neither the Tokyo garrison nor the Royal detachments under General Bartley now have the strength in armoured cavalry to oppose us. Ougi, how long will it take for the evacuation to be complete?"

Ougi's voice was apologetic. "Inoue and others are trying their best, Zero. But given how big this place is…"

"Excuses do not interest me," was the bored-sounding retort. "How long?"

"Twelve hours, maybe, if the Britannian infantry assault doesn't let up" was the terse reply. "There are still many enemy units in the ghetto."

"Infantry squads and APCs," mused Zero. "Very well… I have no more commands for now. Go amok, terrorists. Double down on the evacuation. Neutralize any infantry or tanks you come across, and keep an eye out for VTOLs."

"Hey, Zero!" came in Tamaki's excitable voice. "The Britannian pigs appear to be fighting amongst themselves near that old park! Knightmares, to boot! I'm going towards them! Ougi, give me back-up! Two or three…"

"That's me and my men, you idiot!" snapped the now irritated Voice. "Return to your post and await orders. Ougi, ignore any Knightmares you see unless I tell you. Without IFF, you'll all just be shooting at each other. And ignore any Knightmare activity in the vicinity of their Base. I'll see what can be done."

"Zero, I…" Karen found herself speaking up before she fell silent.

"Any concerns, Q1?"

Yes, who are you? Why are you helping us? Why are you helping me? How do you know my father's name? For years, Karen had feared the prospect of one of her foes knowing the truth of her double-identity; now someone who assuredly wasn't an ally of her's did- but… He was clearly an enemy of Britannia, as the ruins of over eighty Knightmares now scattered all over the ghetto attested- but…

"Nothing, Zero. What are my orders?"

"Follow my orders to Ougi. Inoue, you head Logistics now. Make arrangements for securing the Sutherlands I've gifted you. N group, a column of APCs is going down Route-32. 17 machines, probably their primary infantry push. Ambush them. Another APC Column moving parallel to it. They might link up with some of the remaining Knightmares. P1, I want your squad to take out the stragglers milling around the old subway entrance. Use the Knightmare sniper rifles from the Train."

"But that's so far!"

Zero ignored Tamaki's protests as he continued barking orders, "B4 and B5 and B1 will attack and push enemy infantry down to Route-27, where the crossfire from B6 and B2 will wipe them out."

Ougi broke in, "Zero, they're probably Honorary Britannians there. We can…"

"They're enemies. Take note of all my orders. I will be leaving the field soon and won't be able to help you then. After disposing off them, Group B and Group N will secure the Perimeter as the rest of you double down on the evacuation. Q1, change that Glasgow for a Sutherland if you wish, and take down any Knightmare that attacks your positions. None will, but stay prepared. I will try enforce a Ceasefire in the meantime. Stand ready for all eventualities." For a moment, no one spoke, no one responded or even moved a muscle. Then Zero snarled, "What are you all waiting for? Move!"

* * *

Jeremiah Gottwald limped into the ruins of what had once been a Britannian Field Base Camp.

Carcases of men and machines alike lay scattered around him as far as the eye could see. Wounded soldiers, bleeding technicians, confused engineers, frustrated doctors, weeping Knights were everywhere; all semblance of any chain of command long lost. The very mud stank of oil and blood, and rose-pink Sakuradite-fueled fires, unquenchable by water, burnt wherever Jeremiah had remembered seeing a Base prefab when he'd set out that morning. As he walked past the undefended primary entrance, he spotted a Purist pilot- battered, bloody, and with his sole remaining arm in a sling- splayed out on the muddy earth and crying openly. The Britannian military machine, the force that had brought a third of the globe to its knees, had been tested that day and found sorely wanting.

But that had hardly been the dearest blow they'd suffered.

Jeremiah still had almost four miles to walk when he'd seen the shells rain down. The first volleys- 15.5 explosive shells from the twenty massive Field Guns at the Viceregal Armouries- had struck, judging from the maps Jeremiah had seen that morning, around Sectors L3 and L4- where the Honorary Britannian squads had earlier reported fierce fighting. The second had come down around Sector F3- an iffy proposition, considering that Jeremiah had been planning to get his leg looked at by the medical outpost there, but it wasn't unexpected that the terrorists take over a poorly defended bivouac during a battle.

But he had already been in sight of the G1 when the final round of strikes had come down upon the Base itself.

The standard Sakuradite-charged 15.5 Shell had a sure-kill radius of over a dozen metres. Jeremiah had seen four-inch think armour torn into ribbons from one such hit. An entire volley, shrapnel flying all around and Sakuradite fires sucking the very oxygen from the air, choking men to death as far as half a kilometre away…

Jeremiah Gottwald had been in the vanguard of the Seto push in the War a decade ago. He had volunteered for it, even serving in the Forlorn Hope at the assault upon Awaji in some of the fiercest fighting the World had seen since the Great War- but even the bloodiest battles he'd been in, paled in comparison to… this… A vast wreck of Steel, Silk, and Sakuradite reared its once-great head in front of Jeremiah Gottwald, angling dangerously to the right, its purple shell punctuated with shattered portholes and more sinister-looking breaks in the steel structure. Its Knightmare ports yawned like open wounds, empty of the machines they ought to have contained. A mass of troops milled around the base seemingly without any direction, like ants tearing around without reason after young boys had torn down their anthill, orders being shouted by a hundred different voices at once. In the distance, a flaming tower of rose-pink marked where the fuel depot had been set up- & the smell of ozone and dust and blood and shit was everywhere.

Flagging down one of the few troops around who didn't look so shell-shocked as to have been rendered useless. "Who's in command here, soldier?" he barked.

"Lord Starkey has taken command, my Lord," stammered the terrified-looking soldier.

"Claude Starkey? The Baron? Where's Bartley?"

The soldier's eyes were darting from side to side like a hunted animal's. He bent forwards slightly, "My Lord, you may not know this but they're executing the High Command. The Royal Guard told us… After the terrorists attacked G1 and the fuel depot, some of the Knightmares brought in for repairs betrayed us. The Guards had been called off. They destroyed the machines, and destroyed the supply carriages, and then they…"

'The Guards have been called off,' Princess Cornelia ordered a seventeen-year-old soldier on his first assignment.

Jeremiah grabbed the terrified soldier's shoulders, nearly shaking him like a rag-doll. "Where is the Prince? Are they safe? Where is he? Did Starkey save him?" He all but snarled.

"I don't know, Sir! I don't know!" squeaked the man, "I was just told to guard the entrance by Lord Soresi! I don't know…"

Kewell? At least someone in this dump retained his wits… "Get back to your position," Jeremiah snapped at the man. "I walked in here at will. I ought to have you court-martialled and shot!"

"But, My Lord," protested the soldier, his eyes wide with terror. "The Terrorists shelled the Base itself! They have Knightmares, My Lord, Knightmares! They nearly toppled the G1! See my Lord, how…"

"Lord Jeremiah!" Lord Soresi jumped down from the Humvee that had just pulled up. "Thank God, you're safe. We had almost written you off as dead."

"Kewell," Jeremiah nodded in relief. "What is going on? What on Earth happened here? Where is the Prince?"

Kewell grimaced as he helped Jeremiah clambered into the vehicle. Dismissing the now-sobbing soldier, he ordered his driver to help him gather a suitable defence for the entrance. Climbing behind the wheel himself, Kewell started towards the motor. "It's good that you're back and still fit for command, Margrave. I couldn't find General Bartley so I took command myself as a Viscount of the Empire. One of the men found Count Lerus alive and well, but he still hasn't stopped screaming yet."

Weakness. Jeremiah suppressed a surge of anger… There could be no room for doubt or weakness while serving one's Lord- and in such a situation… Jeremiah knew this better than most. Kewell, of course, had spared no time in claiming Power- but then again. "The Prince…"

"They tell me Starkey, damn him! He and his men managed to evacuate the Prince and most of the G1 Staff just as the rogue Knightmares attacked. I and some of the new recruits managed to stop them but then the friendly fire started... We put a stop to it just before you turned up but our boys are likely still killing each other out there. No matter, their duty is to the Prince first. That had been around the time Prince Clovis announced the Ceasefire."

"Ceasefire?"

"You've been out of it," Kewell circled the Humvee around a burning line of trucks. "I would've been too- but after that… earthquake, I managed to catch sight of a passing medical transport. Lucky, I guess." He winced. "I was at the edge and my Sutherland auto-ejected; most of those ahead off me… killed by the dozens. We have a ceasefire now, aid to all. Britannians and Japanese alike."

Jeremiah looked through the 4-inch thick glass. Those that were still able to walk, looked like corpses. Medics were finally coming out in force now, shouting out orders and succouring the wounded. Jeremiah watched as a soot-caked man thrust his own leg into the air and started laughing wildly. "You'd have a hard time getting this Army to do anything." Then he recalled… "What rouge Knightmares are you talking about though? There was a Purist that attacked me. I dismissed it as an accident then. Was it us here…?"

Kewell frowned as he stopped the vehicle in front of the burning carcass of the G1, jutting its mighty ruin into the darkening Tokyo sky. Some degree of order had been restored here; reinforcements from the Viceregal Palace and the North Barracks were trickling in – as well as several ambulances from local hospitals and several Knightpolice frames. There goes the lockdown, Jeremiah thought grimly as he spied the cadaverous Diethard Reid practically dancing in front of a hassled-looking EMT.

"Get some men on him, Kewell," Jeremiah told his subordinate. "The Media and the Civilians must go."

"I will," nodded Kewell as helped the Margrave get out. "But not the medical support. There were at least three traitors, Orion squad members I suppose, and since Prince Clovis had stripped us of all Armoured Knights, we couldn't do anything until Lady Arana could bring her Frames from outside the ghetto. Also, Lord Jeremiah," Kewell's voice fell into a whisper as he looked around furtively. "I've suppressed this but I think you should know. There were Purists among the traitors." He went on as a shocked Jeremiah tried to find the words to reply. "Dowling's Frame was the one which attacked the fuel depot. We brought him down- but there was someone on foot who'd already sabotaged the communication channels to the Palace." Kewell sighed despondently. "It was Villetta."

* * *

"Suzaku," came a voice he would never forget in his life, the voice of his first true friend.

Suzaku opened his eyes to a cramped half-shadowed interior which stank of anti-septic and alcohol. He tried to move his arms- but found they'd been strapped in place. A moment of panic corrected itself when he realized that they were in a moving ambulance, and the bands only in place to secure… him.

A figure darker than the half-darkness around him asked again as he switched on the dim lights. "Suzaku, can you hear me?" And then there was Lelouch in front of him again. His hair was out of place, his brilliant purple eyes lined with red and circled with skin so dark they almost looked like bruises, his white shirt was stained with dirt and sweat, but it'd been more than 7 years since that day in the shack in the backyard, that proud face was all…

"Lelouch! It's you!" explained Suzaku, his eyes filling with tears. Despite everything, despite all the years, despite all grief and sorrows, he was with his friend again.

"Who else could it be?" snorted Lelouch as he helped remove the restraints and poured out some water for Suzaku from a carafe into a plastic cup. "I asked the EMT in the front. You didn't seem to be in danger. How are you feeling now?"

Suzaku noted his bandages had been changed. This one even looked more professional than earlier when…"I have been better," he said absentmindedly as he tried to recall what had happened after those nice folk… Damn the morphine! "Where are we? This doesn't look like a military ambulance."

Lelouch, Suzaku noticed, was staring at him with narrowed eyes. For a few seconds, both of then sat in silence; Lelouch squinting in concentration at something while Suzaku fidgeted under his stare. "No… You don't either…" muttered Lelouch before he regained his old jaunty smirk. "Of course, not. As if the Military would spare a vehicle for a mere Honorary Britannian cannon-fodder."

Suzaku grinned. "They'd spare one for a Prince."

"If father knew who or what I was, he'd be sending nothing less than an Army led by all twelve Knights of the Round to bring me down!" Lelouch carefully leaned back, and Suzaku saw that they weren't alone. Another figure lay on the stretcher at whose foot Lelouch was sitting. The roar of traffic they could hear through the walls of vehicle was beginning to recede, sign that they were entering the more residential areas. For some reason, Lelouch had covered all windows with masking tape… Until Suzaku remembered. The cannister. The girl. The Royal Guards. The scientists. How he'd been shot and then woken up inside a Britannian base camp with Dr Asplund and Dr Croomy tending to him. How Dr Croomy had grimaced as the eccentric grey-haired man had started singing how they had the missing device at last, and how they'd returned his father's watch to him. Dr Asplund had just started talking- praising some Knightmare he had created when the Royal Guard had barged into the chambers.

The Guards had demanded Suzaku; for the girl in the cannister, Suzaku guessed. Dr Croomy had refused, saying that he was injured and needed rest. The Guards had insisted; Dr Asplund had told them to 'get stuffed unless you can bring me Jerry boy or better'. Then the Guards had ordered reinforcements who started thrashing the place over the screams of the technicians. The two doctors had argued, cajoled, bribed, even threatened them with someone named "Zel" or something, but the Guards hadn't heard a word. In the meantime, one of them had ordered for Suzaku to be put under sedatives again, and one of Dr Asplund's more patriotic medics had rushed to obey.

Suzaka hadn't protested; he had deserved it; though he couldn't have wished less for the headache he had now. He groaned as he sat up, knocking his head on the low roof, and held his heads in his hands. "Lelouch… That girl in the cannister…"

"Aye, she is alright. See for yourself!" Lelouch patted the sleeping figure by him. Suzaku's fears must've shown on his face but Lelouch put his finger to his lips. "Let her rest for now."

"The Royal Guard was searching for her, Lelouch. They even turned up at those Scientists' for me. If they find her…"

Lelouch waved off his concerns. "They've been searching for Nunally and me for nearly a decade now. Clovis' goons aren't the smartest people on the World." He looked supremely unconcerned as he lounged… lounged back, took out his phone, & began checking for something.

"Lelouch…" Suzaku frowned. The pain in his abdomen was no lie.

"You worry too much, old friend. Rest." Lelouch was looking… bored, of all things. Suzaku knew that look well; it was the look Lelouch got while playing opponents at chess too far below him. He'd go into a weird trance, humming at everything told to him and ignoring everyone in general.

"If you say so… But Nunally!" Suzaku pointed out but as Lelouch hummed that away as well, the soldier sighed and decided to drop the matter. "How is Nunally? Is she doing well?"

Lelouch put down the phone and turned his full attention upon Suzaku. "Ah yes. We live at Ashford Academy under the name Lamperouge."

"Your mother's maiden name?"

"The same. You remember about our friend Milly, right? They have been kind enough to take us in. You won't…"

"Not a soul, Lelouch. It's nice to know both she and you have somewhere to live in peace now." Suzaku knew of Ashford. Located at the outskirts of the Settlement, it was the finest and most expensive educational institution in Area 11, and almost every Britannian colonist family of note sent its children there. Suzaku had even heard they maintained a squad of Knightmares for the students to study… "Lelouch, what happened… I remember there were these two Britannian scientists who had helped, and then there were two of Clovis' Royal Guard who…"

Lelouch nodded, his face in half-shadow. "They gave you a sedative and were probably taking you to a quiet spot where they could murder you. Thankfully, I had managed to track you down by then. After Prince Clovis broke the Perimeter, it was an easy matter to get you on board a free ambulance."

"They listened to you?"

"Let's just say they saw the benefits of cooperation."

Something told him there was far more his friend was unwilling to elaborate upon. As it was, Suzaku was grateful. "You said Prince Clovis broke the Perimeter? What happened back there while I was out of it, Lelouch?"

"I wouldn't know, Suzaku. I got out of there as soon as I got what I wanted." Lelouch shrugged and replied with what seemed like a click of impatience. "Forget it. Shinjuku is not our concern anymore. I'm taking you to somewhere safe; you can meet Nunally tomorrow. It's a peaceful place."

Suzaku's eyebrow rose. "You are bringing a soldier there though?"

"That is true. You have joined the Britannian Empire, the very Power that destroyed your home."

"I…" I wish I was someone else… "I had to, Lelouch. With good service, maybe I can…"

"Convince my father of the reliability and loyalty of the Elevens?" Father? Did that mean… "Appeal to his non-existent sense of mercy, ask him to show pity upon his fellow men? Make that megalomaniac psychopath see reason?" Maybe not… "Turn the stony hearts of the gluttonous Imperial nobles towards the light?" mocked Lelouch. Yet again, like in the old days, he had read Suzaku like a book, even though he shouldn't have, not on this at least. "Change over forty years of Imperial policy? Bow long enough and they'll stop walking over you? I wouldn't do it. No sane man would."

Here we come to gist of it, Suzaku sighed. When he had woken up and seen his old friend, for a moment he had hoped that his friend had found closure, that he had made peace with his father's betrayal of his mother and Nunally. But he should've known better. Even as a ten-year-old, Lelouch had demonstrated that he knew how to keep a grudge. "You haven't forgiven him still."

Lelouch was quiet for a moment, his eyes inscrutable. "He killed my mother. I will kill him."

Oh Lelouch, do you blame him for her murder now? "Lelouch, he is…"

"An eye for an eye." Lelouch intoned in a voice that would brook no disagreement. "A tooth for a tooth. A mathematical equation. There's nothing more to it. No matter how many nations bow to him, it won't change my mind."

Suzaku sighed. "You're right there. I can't imagine you bowing to anyone…" If only Lelouch knew what Suzaku himself...

"It's not what you'll be doing either." The same iron voice remarked and Suzaku's eyes shot up.

"Lelouch?"

His friend lounged back as the feel of the drive changed; the ambulance was clearly pulling into a suburb; there was no doubt they were nearing Ashford- or some nearby place where they could sneak into the Campus in secrecy. "The Royal Guard wants to kill you, remember? Me, as well- but I'm not the idiot soldier who wants to return to the military. As for the Honorary Britannian system itself, ah…" Lelouch's phone rang and he languidly answered. "Yes? Yes. Yes, that is well done. Get rid of the vehicle and purge the evidence. The EMTs must do their best. I won't tolerate failure. I will…" Lelouch checked his watch, the luminescent dial shining neon green in the half-darkness. "It is 2309 hours. I will be there by 0500 hours tomorrow." Lelouch switched off the phone, patting the unconscious girl's head as he did. "As I said, the Honorary Britannian system is merely a façade to give the Japanese hope. No one really…"

"Lelouch, who was that?"

Lelouch's eyes were wary- but almost challenging. "You aren't the only person in the ghetto who needed my help."

"I see." Suzaku said quietly.

After a while, Lelouch spoke evenly, even a tad carelessly. "Quite a few among the Settlement nobility owe me favours. As corrupt and decadent they are, it is a marvel the Empire is as powerful as it is."

Suzaku nodded. That explained the Ambulance then. "Lelouch, those two Britannian scientists I told you about…?"

A yawn, "Forget about them. You can't go back to the military anymore, Suzaku. Your plan was stupid in the first place."

"No. You don't understand, Lelouch." It is all I deserve. It is what I really deserve. "It is something I have to do."

"They have shot you once already. They will kill Suzaku Kururugi if he returns." Lelouch said this as a fact. Suzaku knew it was.

Yet he protested. "They tried to murder us. That was criminal. The Military…"

"Runs on murder. But I won't try to change your mind." Lelouch snapped his fingers. "As far as I can see, you have two options. One, you persist with your delusional ideas." Suzaku couldn't believe what he was hearing. Lelouch vi Britannia? Respect someone else's opinions over his own? "But not as Suzaku Kururugi."

What? "Lelouch?"

"I told you several of the…" His friend snorted, "Superior Britannian Nobility owe me favours. And who cares for one Honorary Britannian, no matter whose son he is?" Lelouch was now positively… caressing the girl's head. "I can arrange for a new identity for you, Sado Airbase possibly or even Okinawa. They always need men for all the Construction they do, preparing for a Federation attack that will never come."

"That… That sounds… sounds tempting, Lelouch."

"And they're both isolated islands," his friend went on as if he hadn't even heard Suzaku speak. "With Britannians being such a large proportion of the population, there's practically no terrorism. You won't have to fight your countrymen there. Think about it. With your strength and skills, you will rise high there." A fey grin played on the Prince's face. "You might even make Warrant Officer in a decade, if you join the stevedores. A peaceful life, a successful life."

A life I don't deserve. "That's wonderful, Lelouch!" Suzaku exclaimed happily- at which Lelouch started chortling, trying to throttle his amused chuckles with his right fist as he slapped his thighs with the other.

"There's nothing wrong with being a Warrant Officer," grumbled Suzaku.

"No, I suppose not!" Lelouch huffed, the manic grin still on his face. "The great Kururugi Suzaku," He said mockingly. "A stevedore, of all things, running a shop." He snorted again and Suzaku felt a surge of irritation. Lelouch sniggered a bit and then, controlled himself, speaking plainly again. "But there's another route. Listen to me. You know as well as I do the Honorary Britannian system is nonsense. Even if it wasn't, there's no chance one man- even if it's you, Suzaku- could make any difference of note. You might make Warrant Officer in a decade, Suzaku. Maybe you might even retire at forty as a Captain, marry someone, open a store there."

Retire? Marry? I don't deserve…

Lelouch went on, unheeding of what Suzaku was thinking. "This present conflict… Suzaku, it can't last. Father's Empire might be built on blood and fear, but he isn't stupid. He isn't some European Imperialist vote-monger; he knows it's better to break the Numbers' spirits than their bodies. Soon every trace of Japanese society, Japanese culture, a Japanese past… All will be gone. In fifty years, Japan will be like Area Seven- all but a part of Britannia. In a hundred, like Quebec- and then they'll look at you askew if you tell them they were Numbers themselves once."

And just like that, you destroyed my one hope for repentance, Lelouch… "I don't… Won't that be good, then?"

Lelouch went back to patting the girl's head. "If we consider that it's 'good' if no one in a hundred years knows that a language called Japanese ever existed or who Oda Nobunaga was… I suppose, it's okay if you're a Britannian Supremacist. And there's the question of Race as well. I doubt Areas whose natives aren't originally from Western Europe would ever get full rights in the Empire."

"But still…"

"It's immaterial what one Honorary Britannian thinks or does, Suzaku. This conflict will end one day, the Elevens will forget they ever had a country. Maybe in fifty years, there will be local Eleven Britannian nobility- barons and such, no one too powerful- but nobility, nonetheless. That's how the Empire is. I mean- what is the chance you will ever do anything to impress anyone of note? Would the likes of Gottwald the Purist or one of the Refrain-selling swine like Vinci recognize you even if you did? Vile as the average Britannian noble is, they'd just steal the credit for anything you accomplish."

"But all Britannians aren't like that, Lelouch! Nunally and you aren't. And there were those two scientists who helped me today."

"What did they want in exchange for…" Lelouch raised a finger. "Saving you?"

A white and gold key twirled around a finger before a black gloved fist of steel closed around it. "They wanted me to be a test-pilot… The lady mentioned a new Knightmare Frame…"

"Camelot, I've heard of them" Lelouch nodded, and Suzaku's heart leapt with joy. "They're one of the Prime Minister's Research Units." For a second, Suzaku wondered whether Lelouch could help him get in touch with them again, if only for a simple thanks but Lelouch's next words put an end to that. "Suzaku, they're not under Clovis. Your scientists might be hallway across the World by now. Forget them."

"But Lelouch…"

Lelouch frowned. "Why are you so hung up on them? In any case, finding them now would be like looking for a needle in a prairie. Forget it. They must've just run out of guinea pigs for their experiments when they met you. Once their tests were done, they'd have sent you off, with a guinea if you're lucky. You'd be better off joining that stevedore crew."

Suzaku bowed his head. No, Lelouch was right as usual. He was just someone they'd found on the street… A replacement for Jerry boy, whoever that was. Though that lady had been kind to him. "You are right, I guess, Lelouch. You said you can arrange a new identity for me?"

"Of course. And it might be safer for you… as son of Japan's last Prime Minister." Lelouch drummed his fingers on the metal walls. "You could even visit Nunally and me at times!"

"That would be nice. You mentioned Sado, right? I have been there; it used to be a nice peaceful place- before the War, that is. I wish I could've taken..."

"You didn't hear the second option." Lelouch interrupted, his voice low and serious. "I can't bear the sight of poor Nunally suffering like this anymore." Neither could Suzaku, even back then. But what they could do? "The kingdoms of India are some of the world's leading industrial powers, as good as Britannia itself. But as with Britannia, far too much potential is wasted in military matters instead of on medicine…"

"You want to migrate with her to India then, Lelouch?" As a member-state in the Chinese Federation, Britannian agents kept a close watch on any citizen of the Empire travelling there. Whatever it was, Lelouch wouldn't risk Nunally… And If he did, Suzaku would just have to make sure the two didn't get hurt. "But, won't that put you two at risk of detection?"

"That is correct. So, instead I'm planning to bring them here." Lelouch said to his friend's shock. "Today's near-escape taught me how frivolously I was wasting my time. I will start my own Company, the sooner the better. I already have a nest egg hidden away, and Baron Ashford- that's Milly's grandfather- owns several properties around these islands. Most of them are worth next to nothing… but they can be developed. We can go into weapons' design first; that's always profitable. Once we are rich enough, we can start Medical research in parallel; I once read something about how neural implants could help build better Knightmares."

"If that's true, it might be possible to control machines with one's thoughts alone…" Suzaku mused before his eyes lit up in joy. "Mechanized arms for workers… Artificial legs. Eyes, even!"

Lelouch was now looking positively ecstatic. "Imagine that, Suzaku! We can help Nunally, we can help the Japanese. So many were left crippled and wounded after the War. And beyond that, the suffering millions of the World!" He waved his arms around like a conductor with a baton. "Don't you see it? A way to help Nunally, to help Nunally. Why waste years on some pier on some island like a limpet!"

Forgive me, father. "You are right. The wars, the terrorism, even if you say they will end, Lelouch, they won't end soon enough. More will suffer. But if we succeed in your plan…"

"But I can't just leave Nunally alone to go wrangle with researchers in Satsuma or Suppliers in Calcutta. And I will have to depend on local labour since I can't go around hiring Britannians who might recognize me."

Suzaku nodded. Immaterial as it was to him whether he died tomorrow or the day after, if his life helped Lelouch and Nunally even in the slightest… "That's why you need my help, is it?"

"Precisely." Lelouch was laughing now, a happy laugh, the laugh of someone… Not someone talking about murdering his own father.

"Of course, I will join you, Lelouch!" Suzaku laughed as well as he stretched out his hand. "We are friends, aren't we?"

Lelouch took it, with the biggest smirk Suzaku had ever seen on his face. "Thank you, Suzaku. Together, there is nothing we two can't accomplish."

* * *

 _Suzaku is the anti-Lelouch in canon and the first order of business for any Re;Lelouch ought to be to neutralize both him & the Lancelot. Now, the easiest way to counter Lancelot is to hit at its weakest link- the personnel at Camelot. Suzaku arrested by geassed Guards who smuggle him to Lelouch, Clovis' Guard thrashing a personal project of Schniezel, and a Geass suicide attack on the Base will knock out Lancelot from the fight- and a lot of time to come. Also- while Suzaku is an idiot with a death-wish as well as a hero complex, he's someone who cares for his friends and has had pretty much no one show any affection to him for nearly 7 years now. Enter Re;Lelouch who tells him- that Japan will be happy even without his sacrifice, no one in Britannia actually cares for him except Nunally & him, and how he'd only be too happy to help Suzaku to carry on with his death-wish but alas, he needs someone to help save the pretty damsel-in-a-wheelchair._

* * *

 _The Battle of Shinjuku has been far different from canon. Re;Lelouch has used what must've been one of Clovis' greatest assets- his own Royal Guard, so trusted and influential that they knew who CC was- and turned what was, in canon, a straight-up Terrorist-Britannian fight into one between the Terrorists, Geassed Britannians, Clovis, and just confused folk who can't distinguish friend and foe. Re;Lelouch takes advantage of the fog of war, and drowns Clovis with Data just as the latter is at the fever-pitch of his plan so Clovis just ignores the coordinates being sent to Artillery and the fact that his infantry are being diverted to a kill-zone. Meanwhile he has the Royal Guard kidnap Suzaku, thrash Camelot, kidnap Clovis, and waltz out of the front door._


	3. Iteration 03: The Schemes of the Demon

_I thought the Britannian Empire as it was at the start of Code Geass was absurdly powerful. There's no way the other two Superstates and their lackeys, like those in the Middle East, hadn't cooperated to take it down years ago. I've nerfed them hard. Areas 1 to 5 are pretty much the USA and Canada. A lot of Areas purely exist on paper or have too few people to make much of a difference; Brazil was never created so Amazonia is mostly a huge forest with less people than Florida, Argentina is the centre of population and industry in South America, and Area 12 qualifies as one purely on account of its military importance. Charles' Imperialism starts from a time we'd associate with World War I, around 40 years in canon. In my canon, the pre-Charles Britannian Area Policy was more on the level of self-government allowed, rather than the open tyranny it is during Lelouch's time._

 _Area 0, of course, was the Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, but no one talks about that anymore._

 _Area 1: The Thirteen Colonies_

 _Area 2: Quebec, the Mississippi Plains, and Queen Elizabeth Islands._

 _Area 3: Florida and the Caribbean Islands._

 _Area 4: California and Cascadia_

 _Area 5: Trans-Canada and Alaska_

 _Area 6: Mexico and Gran Colombia_

 _Area 7: Hawaii and North Pacific Islands_

 _Area 8: Falklands and Patagonia_

 _Area 9: Tierra del Fuego and the Trans-Colombian Pacific Coast_

 _Area 10: Amazonia_

 _Area 11: Japan_

 _Area 12: Sakhalin and the Aleutian Islands_

 _Area 13: Cambodia (Claimed under the Treaty of Madrid but uncontrolled; Ceasefire in place)_

 _Area 14: Papua New Guinea_

 _Area 15: South Pacific Islands_

 _Area 16: Korea (Claimed under the Treaty of Madrid but uncontrolled; Ceasefire in place)_

 _Area 17: Philippines, Sulawesi and Borneo (Claimed under the Treaty of Madrid but uncontrolled apart from the first territory)_

 _Area 18: The Bab el Mandab Military District (Claimed from the Arab Federation under the Treaty of Tripoli but uncontrolled; Meant as a provocation as casus belli for Cornelia to declare War on them and reduce the EU sphere of influence.)_

 _Areas 1 and 2 are the Homeland, while people in Areas 3, 4, and 5 are full-blooded Britannians for all purposes. In this fanfic, Area 11 is of vital importance- not only because of the Sakuradite deposits there but also because it's the biggest trophy conquest Britannia has ever managed. However, most of the Britannian military is bogged down around the South-Pacific and Indian Oceans, on account of opposition from other Powers like the Chinese Federation and the Oceanic Commonwealth._

* * *

As Lelouch helped Suzaku roll C.C.'s stretcher down the massive storm drain that made up just one of the many secret passages that perforated the underbelly of Ashford Academy, he couldn't help but marvel at the sheer genius of Lord Reuben, once-Baron of Williston. Most nobles would've sunk into despondency and despair after receiving as massive a shock as great as Empress Marianne's was to the Ashfords- but the old Baron had rallied, recovered, and governed what was arguably the finest Britannian finishing school and boarding school outside the Homeland. In many ways, his had been a far greater achievement that even Zero's rise from obscurity to international notoriety.

Especially since all that time, Reuben Ashford had all but placed his family's neck on the line by sheltering his lost Empress' children from any who might want to cause them harm.

His mother didn't deserve his devotion, a white flash of rage childishly rang across Lelouch's mind.

It hadn't been until that he had become Emperor that Lelouch had really come to realize what exactly Marianne had meant for so many Britannians. For the common man on the street, she had been the living icon of just what pure skill and hard work could achieve in Britannia, even in the face of the steepest social barriers. For the older Knightmare pilots, she had been an ideal to aspire to, a Knight so skilled that it was said old Buhrmann- hero of the Falklands- had wept with joy when he had seen her fight during the Blood Emblem, even as she slaughtered his own forces. For the Nationalists like Lord Friedrich- Jeremiah's father, she had been very image of Britannian perfection idealists like him aspired to, irrespective of birth or status. While still a Prince, Lelouch had been too young to appreciate the intricacies of Knightmare development and usage. He hadn't understood why exactly his mother had been all but worshipped by so many of the old Guard- until one of Marrybell's technicians had, in the final days leading up to Zero Requiem, accidentally come across some of the old restricted footage of Marianne's piloting.

It was fortunate that Knightmares- as with all corporeal weaponry- meant nothing in the World of C, otherwise Lelouch doubted even Suzaku and Karen working in tandem could've challenged Marianne vi Britannia- the first true Knightmare Pilot- in her prime.

Suzaku had barely questioned as Lelouch had the EMT draw his blood and take samples. He hadn't even asked a single question as Lelouch told him to head ahead into the half-hidden drain entrance, buying the Prince the moments he needed to deal with the geassed medical personnel. It was astonishing just how much blind trust Suzaku had once placed upon Lelouch, how much trust Karen had in him once upon a time- before SAZ, before the betrayal, before everything…

What must have gone through the minds of his father, his mother, and V.V. as they betrayed each other all those years ago?

"Lelouch, is this the door?" whispered Suzaku, as he stopped in front of a sunken passageway equipped with an electronic lock. Despite his injuries, the Japanese teen had been the one chiefly rolling the stretcher along as Lelouch vaguely drifted behind.

"It is. Stay back a bit," said Lelouch as he stepped forward and punched in the thirty-letter—long passcode.

"Lelouch." Suzaku was biting his lip. "I can hide in the ghettos. It would be no problem at all. Even if you tell me no soldiers will come looking… this is still a school, Lelouch- and Japanese…"

"Have the right to be in Japan," stressed Lelouch as he slid open the secret panel. "Help me with C.C., please."

Suzaku looked a bit pale as he muscled C.C.'s stretched onto the now-exposed elevator, built more than a decade ago by Lord Reuben to serve as an escape route for his students in case of a terrorist attack. He looked, Lelouch mused as he locked the panel, innocent. This wasn't the Suzaku who had slaughtered so many of his own countrymen without hesitation during the Black Rebellion or the Suzaku who had carved a crest of blood across Western Europe- or even the ones who had tortured Lord Kingsley and tried to execute Zero in cold blood. He remembered nothing. Why would he?

As far as the Holy Britannian Empire was concerned, Suzaku was a nobody. And a nobody he would remain.

The same couldn't be said for Clovis- and Lelouch wondered how long it'd take for the Area 11 military to realize that Starkey hadn't simply 'evacuated' Clovis and his staff- but had abducted them. Hopefully by the time the Purists blocked the roads, the geassed Royal Guard would've long commandeered Clovis' Narita research facility for a prison block fit for a Prince. Lelouch sighed as he- for the umpteenth time that evening- pondered on the wisdom of rendering his foresight useless within minutes of his return, but somehow killing Clovis a second time… he glanced at the still-unconscious C.C. and the huffing Suzaku leaning against the walls of the slow elevator.

Clovis was guilty, yes- and he deserved to be judged, but Lelouch- for some reason- didn't feel as if he had the right to judge his brother anymore, no after his very first act after his… "return" had been to strip the very wills of more than a dozen human beings.

Anyhow- he thought as the doors slid open into the basement of the Student Council Clubhouse- it wasn't likely the halfwits in the Purists could ferret out one of Bartley's hideouts. Lelouch wasn't sure whether the seventy-two-hour rule about abductions was anything more than a fictional trope, but any confusion among Britannian forces was a plus for him. His father would know that Clovis was still alive, but Lelouch doubted the Emperor would risk ruining his image by expressing his concerns about a missing Clovis, even to Schniezel and Cornelia.

"There's an old futon lying somewhere around, Suzaku. Make yourself at home in the living room. Or use the sofa. The refrigerator's always unlocked; the EMTs said you'll be good as new by tomorrow evening if you take adequate rest."

Suzaku cursed as he banged his knee against a cabinet in the half-shadow, probably switching on some piece of equipment or the other which started whirring softly. "Say, Lelouch," he winced and rubbed the joint. "This girl is all right, isn't she? You had the EMT take a look at me but not her…"

Lelouch took advantage of a sliver of moonlight coming through a skylight to brush aside the fringe of hair over C.C.'S forehead and check for himself. It was already a good sight better than when he'd checked upon her inside the cramped cockpit of Villetta's Knightmare and later, one of the four ambulances he'd ordered into his service; the bone had repaired itself and already the skin was stitching together. "She's okay," was his short reply. "You just go to sleep."

Suzaku's honest face looked confused and pale in the half-light as he bent and felt around for whatever machine or the other he'd knocked over; the whirring appeared to be growing louder for some reason. "As you say… Lelouch, you two aren't lovers, are you? I mean, you seem to know her name and…"

Lelouch gritted his teeth- but spoke as politely as he could. "Suzaku. Just. Go to sleep."

"Okay," was the apologetic reply. "I just felt it was weird and a bit creepy for two guys to smuggle an unconscious girl into a basement in the middle of the night."

Lelouch turned from where he was standing by the switchboard, and snapped, "There is a perfect explanation to all this, Suzaku, and…"

The lights came on. Miss Sayoko stood smiling, her finger on the switch. At the far end of the room, Nunally sat on her motorized wheelchair, a frown on her face. "Brother, is that you? We were so worried about you! It's almost 2 in the morning now!"

"Master Lelouch!" Sayoko's voice had just the tiniest bit of steel underneath it. "I believe you were just going to explain why two young men are sneaking in an unconscious girl into a basement at midnight?"

"Who is… Brother?"

Nunally. Less than a day ago, she had been the greatest living challenge to the absolute might of Lelouch vi Britannia. She had been the shattered hopes of five billion souls, groaning under the bloodlust of an insane Emperor. From Tokyo to Toronto, rebels and insurrectionists had chanted her name as they marched to their deaths. In bombed-out ghettos, they pledged arms to her name and in remote woods, they swore eternal hatred against the demonic tyrant who had declared his intention to execute her with his own hands.

Lelouch took a step forwards, wondering what to say to his sister- someone he had destroyed the world for once, someone he loved and cherished and lied to…

"What happened, brother," Nunally frowned. "your breath sounds strange."

"We are innocent!" cried Suzaku, his hands in the air, in a tone of uttermost panic as he looked from a suspicious-looking Sayoko to a puzzled Nunnally to C.C. to Lelouch like a frightened deer. "We just wanted to help her!"

"I am sure you and Master Lelouch only had her best interests at heart, Mr…" Sayoko's smile was broad and slightly disturbing. Lelouch groaned.

"Suzaku-san! Is that you!" exclaimed Nunally, the surprise and wonder obvious in her voice.

"Yes, it's me, Nunally! Lelouch and I ran into each other…"

C.C., as considerate as Lelouch remembered her to be, took that opportunity to raise herself from the stretcher and look around her, like a cat waking from sleep. Then she caught sight of Lelouch, gasped, then stiffened. "You!" she gasped as she stared at Lelouch, her eyes wide with some indescribable emotion and her lips quivering, "What did you do to me!" She shrieked once and, burying her face into her prison uniform's overlong sleeves, began to weep.

"What on Earth!"

"Brother!"

"You told me you had done nothing to her, Lelouch!"

"I have a perfect explanation for everything," announced Lelouch as insistently as he could, as everyone- a weeping C.C. excepted- stared at him.

* * *

"Good afternoon. Sorry I am late.", announced Lelouch without preamble as he strode into the room and plonked a stack of papers onto the table. "I finished the budget last night, President. That should leave you all with some extra time today!"

"Oi, Lelouch!" declared Rivalz, turning on the chair to face his best friend. "Man, you really worried me yesterday! When did you… Who is that!"

An Eleven- of all people- had entered after Lelouch.

The young green-eyed boy seemed athletic, a few inches taller than Rivalz himself. He looked slightly scared though, marching rather gingerly in the wake of Lelouch and looking as if he wanted to be anywhere but there at the minute. Out of the corner of his eye, Rivalz spotted Shirley moving to cover Nina, who was edging towards the wall.

"Lulu, who is that?" Shirley began hesitantly but Milly explained it before Lelouch could reply.

"You're Suzaku Kururugi, aren't you," she asked with a smile, as she went over and drew the curtains. "Lelouch and Nunally have told me a lot about you but I'd never expected that we would ever meet."

"You all know each other?" exclaimed Rivalz as Suzaku hesitantly nodded.

"Not directly," said Lelouch as he collapsed onto a chair and yawned. "You all know that Nunally and I lived in Area 11 even before the invasion. Suzaku's family were the ones who hosted us."

"We got separated in the chaos following the surrender," said Nunally as she drove into the room. "But brother met him accidentally yesterday and asked him to come meet me again." She drove over to where Nina was trembling in her usual corner and reached out to grasp hands with her. Suzaku-san has been one of our dearest friends from the beginning. "Suzaku-san has been one of our dearest friends from the beginning, some of the kindest and most gentle people you can ever met, Nina. There's nothing be afraid of." She ended as Shirley patted Nina on the shoulder.

"I'm sorry I didn't contact you earlier, Milly," apologized Lelouch as he went over to where the three girls stood. "After Rivalz ditched me yesterday, I was lucky enough to run into Suzaku. He helped me get out of Shinjuku before things really soured there."

"The ghetto?" Nina's head shot up. "Vice President, weren't those artillery…"

"They were," Lelouch agreed as Shirley and Milly both gasped. Lelouch took a long look at the screen of Nina's computer and frowned. "The Governor General was slaughtering innocent Japanese, accusing them of being terrorists, when he ran afoul of... From all counts, it's been a bloodbath on all sides."

Nina looked frazzled, her hands white as she clasped Nunally's. "But, Vice President, they must have been terrorists! There's been nothing in the news!" Rivalz could barely believe his ears; had he really abandoned Lelouch in the midst of a pack of vicious Elevens. Suzaku was looking at his feet, slowly shifting his weight from one to the other, as Shirley and Rivalz turned to stare at him.

"Precisely." Milly crossed her arms, "They aren't saying anything on the news. Meaning they probably didn't have due cause."

Shirley gasped. "Is Mr Kururugi…" She asked suspiciously, a bit unfairly in Rivalz's opinion, as the Eleven winced at her implied question.

"Suzaku-san is an Honorary Britannian, and our friend," insisted Nunally, nipping any argument in the bud.

"I can assure you, Madam President," laughed Lelouch carelessly, "Suzaku has never been anything but loyal to the Empire. Speaking of which, can you suggest a time for us two to meet Mr Ashford? There's something Suzaku and I have to discuss with him."

"You want Suzaku to enter the Academy? I can arrange that but Lelouch…" exclaimed a wide-eyed Milly but Suzaku shook his head.

"I'm grateful, Miss Ashford- but I don't think having an Honorary Britannian studying at Ashford would be wise. Especially when…" he glanced towards where the Lamperouges sat with Nina and Shirley and for some reason, Milly's eyes hardened as she nodded. "I'm actually joining as the Managing Director in Lelouch's new company."

"New what?" blurted out Rivalz. "Which new company?"

Lelouch yawned again. He looked really tired, with dark circles standing out like bruises on his face. Rivalz noted then that even Nunally and Suzaku looked tired; Lelouch must've returned really late the previous night. "The one we will be setting up at the Registrar's Office today after I've spoken with Mr. Ashford. Rivalz, keep your schedule free this evening."

"But what about classes!" demanded Shirley. "Lulu, you're already low on attendance!"

"Nina, I will be really grateful if you and Nunally could look up some of the struggling medical equipment manufacturers in the Kanto region," Lelouch asked the two youngest in the room. "Preferably those that used to be pretty successful but were gutted during the invasion. Rivalz!"

"Yes?"

"Keep your schedule free this evening. I remember you boasting you could organize a gambling ring to do a Las Vegas casino proud without leaving your chair." Lelouch snapped his fingers. "Do it. Tonight." He bludgered past the protests from most of the girls to turn upon a clearly flabbergasted Suzaku. "As for you…"

"I will be in the ghettoes, looking up unemployed engineers and the like," intoned Suzaku in a long-suffering voice. "Don't worry about it."

Nunally chided. "We should. Be careful, Suzaku-san. You know how things are now."

Shirley asked, "Wait- what has happened?"

Milly turned to her in surprise. "You haven't heard yet, Shirley? It's been all over the news."

"Tokyo Settlement was moved into DEFCON IV barely two hours ago," Suzaku answered, glancing at Lelouch. "They might declare a curfew on Ja… Eleven movement any minute now."

"Which makes it imperative that Suzaku stay out of the Settlement while I handle everything within," yawned Lelouch again as he dragged himself towards the door. "Shirley, you won't mind covering for me today, will you? I promise to make it up twice over."

* * *

Cecille Croomy took a deep breath and opened her eyes. The name on the screen didn't change.

"You are sure, aren't you," she turned to ask the clerk standing by her chair, impatiently tapping his feet on the marble floor. "The records say they haven't found a body yet."

The young Britannian woman snapped, "Ma'am. if the records say he's dead, he's dead. It's a just honorary Britannian. Who cares for them?"

"But the ID…"

The clerk gritted her teeth audibly as looked around, and Cecille followed her eyes. They were in the administrative section of Count Albericht General, barely fifteen minutes from Shinjuku and thus the main centre of all relief operations post the disaster. All around the two, legions of doctors, technicians, nurses, civil staff, and military personnel milled around- and the noise was like a living monster that almost palpably floated in the air and mocked at them.

As the reports flooded in, one thing was clear.

Shinjuku had been the single greatest disaster the Britannian Military had faced in nearly twenty years.

Almost two hundred Britannian troops had been slain that previous day, more than five times that number injured. Rumours went that more than three thousand Honorary Britannian troops- every single one hired within Tokyo Settlement in the past two years- had been lost. A full two Knightmare battalions were either destroyed or too damaged to be of service again. Camelot was in ruins, more than half the technicians wounded- both during the scuffle over Suzaku and when the Royal Guard had later returned with Knightmares to wreck the Lancelot in revenge. It was a miracle indeed that no one had been killed- though Lloyd had been almost apoplectic with rage, and had to be held down and sedated. Even now, the Director was curled up inside a private suite- nursing a minor fracture in his hand he'd got when he'd punched a colleague in the jaw, eating through every pudding cup the hospital could provide, and swearing eternal vengeance on "that poof of a Prince and his savage goons!"

"We are wasting time, ma'am," the clerk's irritated voice broke into her thoughts. "Kururugi's troubles are clearly over. It clearly says Van J98 took these samples from a corpse near the G1."

Cecille clearly remembered how some of Suzaku's first words after waking up had been to ask about his friends, how resigned he had looked when the two royal Guards had burst in and ordered him to come with them. "You said the corpse was near the G1?"

"Ma'am, you can go back there if the Military allows you," the clerk replied with a huff as she was handed yet another towering stack of binders as a colleague. Around them, everyone was hard at work- trying to save the endless stream of wounded, both Britannians and Elevens, coming in. "But they've probably burnt the Eleven's corpses already. We are too short-staffed for details, Ma'am, and they tell me the Military's own medical units have been gutted."

 _I know. I was there_ ; the Sakuradite-fueled explosion at the Base supply dump had probably incinerated everyone in the open within fifty metres in seconds. "Thank you. I took up too much of your time."

"It's nothing, ma'am," replied the Clerk as she took back her chair and started typing away at speed. "I'm sorry I've been cross. It's just…"

"I know. It's okay." Cecille nodded. Maybe she'll go and check up on Lloyd?

The clerk stopped typing and lowered her voice. "Ma'am, they're telling me that Prince Clovis… No one can find him."

"Is that so?" asked Cecille in surprise. She'd seen the great ruin if the G1 in the distance- but given how tough those things were built- especially the Bridges, she was confident that the Prince would've got off safely to be tended to by the finest doctors in the Area.

Unlike 'just an Honorary Britannian'.

The clerk nodded furtively as she printed out a sheet and stamped out. "My fiancé was saying Lord Gottwald- the Margrave, you know- will probably be declaring a coup soon. The Purists suspect sabotage from the local Colonial Nobility. They've long hated our wonderful Prince Clovis. Maybe they've abducted him?"

Doubtful, thought Cecille. As vicious and self-centred as so many of Area 11 Nobility were, they wouldn't dare move against a Royal of the old generation- unless backed by someone from Clovis' own kin. "Don't just say such things in public," she warned the young girl. "The Purists are fanatics."

The girl pouted. "They are always kind to us commoners though; unlike those Cascadians. Bill says there'll be far more jobs for us all if the Honorary Britannians are all fired. Isn't that what the Purists want? There are so many Elevens around, even in the Settlement; it's scary! I can't understand why the military isn't dealing with them!"

' _Van J98 took these samples from a corpse near the G1'_

Cecille forced a smile as she. "That'll be all, Miss. Thank you."

* * *

"Wow!"

Karen turned like a wildcat, every alarm in her head ringing and warning of Britannian spies. She grabbed her hidden blade and had nearly drawn it, before she realized that the owner of the voice was just yet another of the tiresome, scatter-brained Britannian brats who infested Ashford. Her fellow redhead was staring open-mouthed at the carcass of the bee she'd just bisected. As Karen stared- every hair tingling with fear, the auburn head in front of her jerked up. "That was so fast, Karen!" exclaimed the girl Karen now recognized as Shirley Finette- one of the swim team's champions, "Can you teach me too?"

"I suppose so," Karen stuttered- but Shirley barely seemed to notice as she prattled on.

"It's not like I want to harm bees, but that was so cool! Milly said you have a delicate constitution so she wanted you to be in the Student Council but you're improving!" Karen glanced around as she tightened her grip on the hidden blade. "…I am so glad! You know you're the only one in class with a worse attendance than Lelouch so when Milly spoke to me, I was worried about you. Then when Lelouch…"

Karen discretely tucked away her knife and adopting her sickly persona as best as she could, spoke weakly, "Thank you, Miss Finette. Yes, my new treatment has been more successful than the doctors had…"

Shirley, still chattering away, grabbed Karen's hands. "That's wonderful, Karen! Say, if you're feeling better these days, why don't you try for the Swim team? Swimming is…"

"Not healthy for me," blurted Karen as she edged away from her classmate, glancing around for the trio she'd been having lunch with earlier. Irritating as the latter had been, Shirley was clearly a far more vexing an acquittance. Ougi could preach about the merits of school friendships all he wanted, but he wasn't the one sharing a classroom with people with the attention span of an attention-deficit chipmunk and the general awareness of a particularly slow sloth. "If there isn't anything else, Miss Finette," Karen spoke as demurely as possibly. "I will take your leave. My friends…"

"Oh! That reminds me!" Shirley burst out, as she made a grab at Karen again, and it was only with some effort that the latter stopped herself from going for her knife again.

Karen knew she wasn't been her usual self- not after what had happened the previous day.

She had spent the night lying awake atop sweat-soaked sheets, tossing from side to side and wondering what exactly had happened at Shinjuku. The Kozuki Resistance had won- no doubt about that- won possibly the greatest victory the Japanese had seen since Itsukushima- yet something about it rang false to the redheaded half-blood. It had been Sugiyama who had put it best as they'd finally finished evacuating the ghetto around 1 AM, with sounds of isolated clashes between Britannian troops still reverberating in the far end of the ghetto. When Tamaki had declared his intention to buy everyone a beer to celebrate their victory, the former cook had shaken his head. "It was his victory. We weren't even an afterthought on whatever his plans were."

"Go west… Karen Stadtfeld."

"Karen? Karen Stadtfeld!" Shirley sang as she all but buried her face into Karen's. "Are you all right?"

Karen faked a stumble and edged away. "Yes. Just a bit of weakness. I shouldn't have exerted myself earlier."

Shirley's mouth was open wide. Apologetically, she cried, "I am sorry, Karen. I shouldn't have kept you out here for so long! Come in, I'll help you to the Student Council. Milly will have something to eat there…"

"Student Council?"

Shirley nodded enthusiastically as she led Karen around the corner of the Chemistry Lab block. "Yes! It's mandatory for students to join a club, you know- and Milly said that since your constitution is so delicate, you should join the Student Council! She wanted Lelouch to inform you after he finished his work with the Headmaster." The girl harrumphed, "But he and Rivalz rode off, and Nunally…"

Great! As if she didn't have enough concerns already. Ougi would regret it if they made her babysit some happy-go-lucky Britannian playboys… "I don't know, Shirley. My health…"

"Oh! Don't worry! We can excuse ourselves off more classes than others and there are all these passages which we can use as shortcuts. You won't have any problems with medical leaves if…"

On the other hand, maybe Ougi was onto something with his lectures about a holistic education. "That is very nice, Shirley. Why don't you lead the way?"

* * *

Earl Kanon Maldini poured out a cup of chamomile for his sighing liege as the latter poured over the files popping up over the screen. The news had started coming in at the very break of dawn, and since then- for more than twelve hours straight, the Prime Minister of the Holy Britannian Empire had been at his Chair scanning through the confused reports filtering in from Area 11, cancelling and postponing interviews and meetings of the utmost importance, and sending missive after fruitless missive to the Office of the Imperial Steward.

"Oh, Clovis," Prince Schniezel sighed once again as he leaned back on the chair tiredly.

"Has he been found yet? General Bartley isn't the type to relinquish his duties quickly."

Prince Schniezel shook his head sadly as he sipped his tea. "No. That he isn't… Sit down, Kanon… Bartley is missing as well. So is the entire Royal Guard, save the four they've found dead. Just four more in nigh three thousand dead men, Kanon. Three thousand."

Kanon felt a pang of pain as he looked at the sorrowful Schniezel. Some of the fools in the Court were known to remark that nothing ever phased the Prime Minister since he didn't care for mere mortals.

Kanon knew the truth; Prince Schniezel cared so much that he simply couldn't allow himself the luxury of feeling. "I have ordered Lord Steiner to see whether production can be ramped up, my liege. There shouldn't be a problem as long as the local authorities handle the supplies properly."

"Margrave Gottwald is planning a coup, I hear. Though the Secretariat has taken umbrage and will be moving to counter him."

"The name sounds familiar…"

"He was one of the potential devicers suggested for Dr Asplund," replied the Prince. "Though I fear that if Major Croomy's reports are true, Camelot will be doing nothing for at least a month. They've had to sedate Dr Asplund- by the way, remind me to approve Gottwald's candidature tomorrow. Lloyd is indisposed for now but the Major hopes he will be fit for duty within the month."

"So our suspicions were true?" Kanon had spent a good part of his day talking, bribing, cajoling, even threatening his contacts in the Offices of the Ministry of Home Affairs and the Estate of the First Imperial Princess- anyone who could've had an interest in weakening the Prime Minister's affairs. "The Lancelot was the primary target of these provocateurs?"

Schniezel frowned at his half-empty cup. "There's too little data, and everyone says something different. The Margrave is adamant that traitors within the Artillery Corps are to blame, unexpected considering his past. Lady Arana blames the Margrave and General Bartley, unexpected considering her family. Major Croomy tells us the most interesting story; Clovis sent his troops specifically to arrest an injured soldier they had picked up- a Honorary Britannian by the name of Kururugi Suzaku."

Kanon raised a delicately-shaped eyebrow. "The son of the former Prime Minister?"

"The very same."

"An aberration, my liege," Kanon put down his cup. "Possibly just a coincidence."

"Do tell," was the pensive reply.

Kanon took a moment to gather his thoughts. He had spent a fortune in bribes and more in threats that day and he believed he knew the answer. "Princess Guinevere has spent the past two years cementing Lord Quincy's place in the Area 11 nobility. Lord Quincy orchestrated the theft of the poison gas- or whatever that thing was and smuggled it into a den of Eleven terrorists. Prince Clovis attacked, and did manage to break the back of the terrorists with the… liquidation he ordered; however, this scattered his forces across the ghetto. The Princess' agents took advantage of this to strike at him. Some mingled with the terrorists, others within His Highness' troops. The Artillery, the Medics, maybe even some of the Britannian handlers of the local troops had been subverted."

"And she then had Clovis abducted?" Prince Schniezel was leaning forward, his head propped up on his arms, and brows furrowed with concentration.

"The Third Prince is one of your most dependable allies."

Schniezel went as if he hadn't even heard Kanon. "There's still the matter of Kururugi. Something about him. I just can't put my finger on it. Why was Clovis hunting him? What was Clovis really after at Shinjuku? Why order a massacre? And if Guinevere just wanted to destroy the Lancelot- why not target Dr Asplund or bribe… Why first arrest Kururugi, then return with RPGs to destroy the Lancelot?"

"Where is this Kururugi then?" asked Kanon. "Can we bring him in for questioning?"

"He's dead. The good major has confirmed it for us. She couldn't find the body though; it's probably in a mass grave now. It's a disgrace how some of the Military treat Numbers like trash," the Prince said with the faintest hint of disgust in his voice.

"Princess Guinevere isn't the type to use Numbers in her schemes, my Liege," Kanon pointed out.

"What about your… Lord Quincy?"

"I don't know. They're still identifying the bodies- but would such an execution be unexpected of the Princess?"

"Quincy dies on the battlefield with nary a hint of suspicion- but Kururugi is murdered in sight of G1? I doubt it. I doubt he was a spy in the first place. Major Croomy was evasive on why exactly they'd picked him up, but from what some friends at Camelot tell me, it was mere chance. Just one more mystery- to add to the tale of Clovis' abduction," the Prince sighed yet again, and Kanon noted yet again just how tired and defeated he looked.

It was no secret that for over five years, the Empire had rested almost entirely on the able shoulders of the Second Imperial Prince. Emperor Charles had grown more and more withdrawn over the years, barely appearing in public anymore while every year the empire grew more bloated, more decadent, more degenerate. The Prime Minister walked a fine line amongst the ever-tumultuous factions of the Holy Britannian Empire- the vicious nobles, the disgruntled military, the war-weary civilians, and his own scheming family, barely a handful of whom bore any filial affection for him.

One of the last, though, had been Clovis La Britannia- and now he was missing.

"Maybe it doesn't have to be that complicated, my liege," Kanon pointed out. "There is the obvious choice beyond Princess Guinevere."

"Cornelia? She wouldn't harm Clovis. But I wonder whether Clovis knows this," Prince Schniezel's face grew solemn. "I used to wonder why she is so hard on herself all the time. Why she keeps herself so aloof from everyone except Euphemia. I'd once put to down to mere distrust and ambition. But I was wrong. Cornelia will never forgive herself for the death of Empress Marianne. Our... my doubts will never let her forgive herself."

Kanon pursed his lips, "My liege, surely… that was long back in the past."

Schniezel's smile was sad. "What else ever haunts us but our pasts, Kanon?"

* * *

Reuben Ashford felt a headache coming as he flipped through the stacks of applications in front of him. Lelouch really knew how to pick them- a fifty-two-year-old crippled Wisconsin Prosthetics designer who'd settled in Area 11 before the invasion and paid for it with social exclusion, a young Electrical engineer from a minor knightly family in disgrace, several young men and women who were unfit for the military for some reason but had been shut out of the Area 11 commercial scene because of the mismanagement rampant in the Secretariat- and a horde of Japanese from seemingly every ghetto in the Greater Tokyo Region.

"This is Joseph Finette", said Lelouch as he pushed a paper in front of him. "He hasn't applied to us- but I suppose with enough incentive, we can convince him to quit his work in Chiba."

"Lelouch," sighed the Headmaster, "I will be seventy this year. There must be someone else you can push all of this work upon?"

"I am," assured the boy he all but considered his own family. "Suzaku will take over the day-to-day work once he settles in at Chiba…"

"Assuming he isn't with the JLF," sighed Reuben. He'd tried to make Lelouch see reason multiple time over the past few days- but he had been adamant on the subject of Suzaku. It was surprising so much the usually paranoid boy had changed so quickly.

"He isn't, Headmaster. In any case, I'll do as you say. Lelouch Lamperouge won't be setting foot in Chiba prefecture until Narita is neutralized. Happy?"

"For a start." Reuben grumbled as he turned to look at the young girl- in a Pizza Hut uniform of all things- curled up in front of his fireplace, staring at the dull drizzle outside the window while nibbling at a pizza in front of her. Lelouch had shown little interest in women until now- something that Reuben knew irritated Milly- but to hear it, he and this C.C.- what sort of name was that? - were inseparable now.

"Land there has been dirt cheap because if the invasion and the threat of JLF. We can make a killing."

"There's a reason it is cheap, Lelouch," grumbled Reuben irritably. "And it's likely to remain so, Gottwald is an idiot. Even if you go around under my name, it won't help you or your firm if he goes about banning trade with the Chinese or the Japanese from breathing or some such similar nonsense."

Lelouch ignored him. "Hopefully, Mr Finette will head our Finances and he knows the place. He can keep Trimble and Williamson in line as well- but I doubt Trimble will ever move against me; he's too scared."

"Your gambling agent? Lelouch, you do understand how much you worry Milly and me, don't you!" Reuben Ashford scanned through the paper in his hand; this one hadn't even combed his hair before taking the photograph. Tamaki? He crumpled the paper and threw it away. "What about Williamson?"

"Rivalz told me about him." Lelouch scanned through a paper, and nodded before putting a tick upon it. "He's heavily in debt to the Black King. Lost one too many games."

"Again, with the gambling!"

Lelouch laughed- and for a moment, Reuben thought of Marianne waving from atop the Ganymede after its maiden run. "You sound like Nunally, Headmaster. But don't worry- I'll be having this last tournament this Saturday. Rivalz did far better than I'd expected." He deftly folded the paper he was holding into a paper plane and set it off towards the fireplace where it bounced off C.C.'s green head, and made her look up with an irritated look on her face.

"You know, if you weren't so interesting and original every time, I'd have left by now. I think I like your sister much more than you," she said drily as she unfolded the paper and looked through it. "Interesting… I… you don't remember this either, do you?"

"I wish he'd remember to attend his classes for once," muttered Reuben as he stamped off yet another application. They were already far over budget- even with Lelouch's nest eggs completely liquidated. How on Earth had he let the boy talk him into this mess? "Lelouch, you aren't involving Mr Cardemonde in this as well, are you? That boy has enough problems at home already."

"He's just my go-between, Headmaster," Lelouch assured him as he sent another aeroplane careening at the frowning C.C. "How about this? I'll go alone with Mr. Trimble this weekend. No Rivalz. No one else."

The dratted boy even spoke like Marianne at times. "Fine," Reuben snapped. By rights, he should've given Lelouch a proper talking-to, but the Prince usually acted so much as an adult- to say nothing of the fact that Reuben had been impressed by the steps he'd taken to financial independence over the years- that the former Baron just didn't have the heart to. "But you will not be involving anyone else in such nonsense, Lelouch. I'm feeling bad for not getting this child here to attend school already."

"Child?" C.C.'s head shot up from where she was shuffling through the handful of applications in her hands. The pizza slice she'd been holding earlier was now lying on the floor, dribbling cheese all over the expensive redwood. "Baron Reuben, did I perchance hear you refer to me as a 'child'?"

"You are a child, madam," Reuben intoned. Teens could be as bad as young Lloyd on his worst days. "And I will treat you as one."

"So, I am to be a good 'child', not go to any mafia-infested casino, join your little school, and attend my classes diligently like a good… child?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Reuben noted Lelouch quivering with suppressed laughter. "Yes. And you will also learn, madam, that it's rude to smear cheese over other's property. It's rude. And junk food is hardly recommended for growing children…"

"Children!" C.C. repeated caustically. "Lelouch? Where exactly is this mafia-infested casino this dimwit Rivalz was talking about?"

* * *

"Has there been any communication from Starkey?" Lord Jeremiah demanded as he joined Lord Soresi at the lobby of the Secretariat. The Margrave had just returned from the Press conference where he'd announced that Prince Clovis 'was indisposed and unavailable for the immediate future'. While on the road back, he'd attended two meetings via his Personal Communicator, ordered for Knightmare Production to be ramped by 17%, re-organized the garrisons in Shikoku so that at least two Companies could be sent to Tokyo, diverted shipping to other ports, ordered investigations on nine potentially treacherous nobles, and threatened to execute four others.

"Congratulations, Interim Governor General…"

"Later. Starkey?"

Kewell shook his head. He looked terrible; dark circles enrounded his eyes, his skin had a drawn and taut look, and his collar was caked with sweat and dirt. Jeremiah knew he likely didn't look much better; the past forty-eight hours had been a scourge upon both of them. "Nothing. There were a few random calls that night but nothing after 0220 hours. The Royal Guard used custom gear from Pendragon; it'll take at least five days for the technicians to crack through the codes. I have also raided the offices of the major Nobles in Tokyo Settlement, as you wanted. Nothing- but I have had Earl Kilpatrick arrested for Refrain smuggling. This reminds me, Viscount Emack has dared us to do our worst. He was demanding an audience..."

"Tell him I will see him within the Viceregal Palace Interrogation Chambers tonight," snarled Jeremiah as both Purists began to walk towards the elevators. "The Techs can have two days. In the meantime, move the Settlement to DEFCON 3 and lock down the Metropolis."

Kewell grimaced. "They might be in Area 12 already."

"I want every vehicle travelling outside checked, every ship investigated, every flight vetted. Order the garrisons at Gunma, Tochiki, and Kanagawa to transfer to the Settlement. Announce a reward for… No, scratch that. Just get our men on patrols and checking everyone, the local nobles in particular."

"You'll tell them about the Prince!" exclaimed Kewell, his eyes wide with shock. "Lord Jeremiah, the risk to our comrades is…"

"I don't want to." Jeremiah gritted his teeth as Kewell and he entered, "But I still need something; the Prime Minister's Office has been calling me every hour about Clovis and bloody Camelot. We have delayed too long already."

Kewell looked conflicted. "That'll just raise tensions among the Settlers. And there's the economy to think of, as well, especially if we stamp down on the Elevens."

"The Honorary Britannian system must go. We've fought against it for too long," yawned Jeremiah as they got off at the floor the Purists had commandeered. There could be no question about it; Britannia was for Britannians, and Britannians alone.

"You ought to get some rest." Kewell had a wan smile on his face. "I caught about an hour in total while inspecting the City's perimeter today morning." His face fell. "Lord Jeremiah, about this Kings…"

Jeremiah glanced around. It was already too late for most of the civilian staff- but there were still quite a few military personnel thronging the corridors. "Later" he said as he walked into his office, and collapsed into a chair.

His fellow Purist nodded. "Is Villetta…?"

"She's confined to her rooms for now." Jeremiah felt his headache worsening. He had spent an entire hour that morning- an entire hour as the Settlement garrison ran around like headless chickens and the Secretariat plotted at will- with her, trying to understand what had happened.

Again, and again, Jeremiah had tried to break through to her- and every time he'd received the same answer.

"I don't know, Lord Jeremiah!" she'd pleaded tearfully. "I don't know. It's not like I wanted to hurt anyone; they were just stopping me from doing Lord Kingsley's work!" And upon being asked who Lord Kingsley was, she'd had no answer but to sob and protest that she was innocent.

Again, and again and again, she cried and protested while the torturer's chains clanged and banged like the tolling of a funeral bell. Again and again and again…

Jeremiah awoke and grabbed the receiver. "Lord Gottwald," was the robotic heavily modulated voice at the other end. "My name is Archduke Julius Kingsley. I have wronged your comrade, my dear Lord, and I wish to offer an apology…"

* * *

 _Please review, comment, and follow. I'm open to considering any plot points and suggestions anyone may have._


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